You Can't Bury The Past
by MemphisBelle
Summary: An old acquaintance of Eric's comes to him with a warning, but perhaps its Catlin that should be warned. Eric and OC *Set in season 3 of the show* Reviews appreciated and welcome!
1. Chapter 1

_Shit_, Catlin thought. It was less than 20 minutes till sunrise and she had just pulled into the parking lot of Fangtasia. She wished she had chosen a less conventional means of transportation, but her '69 Skylark was more discreet.

Hopping out of the car, she quickly ran a hand up to check her hair and pull around her leather jacket before running to the door of the club. Locked of course for the day. Reaching a hand up, she touched the cool metal of the security door, hesitating, before she banged on it with her fist, yelling, "Anyone there? Open up!" Momentarily, she saw a heavily made up set of eyes dusted excessively in mauve eyeshadow glaring at her through the peephole. "Pam." Not necessarily who she hoped, but at least someone was there. "Well, aren't you going to let me in?" Catlin grinned, seeing the look of disgust in Pam's eyes. Pam didn't speak, but the door swung open slowly to reveal Pam, hands on her hips, in a mauve negligee.

"Well, don't you look nice! Where's Eric? " Catlin demanded. It was always advantageous to mix compliments with orders when it came to Pam. "I have to see him this instant. And I don't care if he's _busy_. This can't wait." The expression on Pam's face changed slightly from disgust to indifference. "He's not here right now," she drawled, shifting her weight to one side. "He's out in Bon Temps saving some human from werewolves. And I don't know when he'll be back either."

_Shit_.

"Of course he would be." Catlin sighed. It would have to wait till tomorrow. "I guess I'll stay here today and see if he comes back tonight." Pam's posture stiffened. "I guess I'll show you to the guest quarters," she sneered at Catlin, her postures still rigid and domineering. "No need," Catlin replied. "I remember the way to Eric's quarters. I'll just stay there." Catlin smiled to herself as she walked past the still disgusted Pam towards Eric's rooms. She paused and leaned against the bar, "Oh Pam, by the way, I'd simply love it if you could find me a snack. I always get hungry after a long drive." She kept walking, adding, "And you know I prefer blondes," right before disappearing down the stairs.

Reaching Eric's quarters, Catlin opened the door and let herself in. His room was, as usual, impeccably tidy. Just to lighten the mood, she set the mirror slightly ajar. _Much better_, she thought. A soft knock at the door surprised her. She smelled a human. "Come in," she called.

The door opened slowly a lean but muscled brunette man entered. His expressive green eyes were focusing on the floor, as if he were scared. "Pam sent me. Said you were hungry. She said you prefer blondes," he paused, "but none are working tonight. I'm sorry, but if I won't do I can get you any kind of TruBlood you want." Catlin looked him over. _Yes,_ she thought. _He'll do. Quite well_. Sensing his unease, she reached over to touch his arm. He didn't flinch as those green eyes looked up at her finally. "Don't worry. You'll be more than fine, I'm sure," Catlin smiled, seeing a look of relief come over his face. "Are you new to this, by chance," she asked. He looked quickly back to the floor standing silent for a few seconds before he whispered, "Yes."

Catlin walked over and shut the door behind them, turning the lock till it clicked. She smiled to herself before turning back to the young man. "What's your name?" she asked, walking towards him.

"Adam," he replied.

Caltin's eyes flew open as she sat straight up in the bed. She almost forgot where she was for a moment. It must be nighttime. Fangtasia would open soon and hopefully Eric would return. She glanced over to the empty spot in the bed next to her. Adam must have woken and left before nightfall.

Grabbing her car keys, Catlin wandered through the club to the side door, where she quietly slid it open, propping the door with a piece of brick so that she could slip back in easily. Walking to her car, she saw a line already forming at the main entrance. _Sad and pathetic_, she thought. _All those humans so desperate to be around vampires. Would they like us so much if they knew what we really were capable of?_

Reaching her car, she opened the trunk and grabbed a leather bag by the strap and threw it over her shoulder. Catlin was glad she packed a few changes of clothes. Her tight jeans, leather boots, tight white tank, and leather jacket were hardly club wear.

Slipping back across the parking lot to the side door, she kicked the brick out of the way, letting the door shut behind her. No sign of Pam or Eric. Just a few humans who had obviously been over-glamored working to open up the club in an hour. And no sign of her snack.

Slightly disappointed, Catlin returned to Eric's room. _What to wear,_ she wondered. Pulling out an emerald green strapless minidress, she remembered, _Eric always did like it when I wore green_. She slipped off her jeans and tank and pulled the dress up. Examining herself in the mirror, she ran her hands down the sides of the dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles before adjusting the top of the dress to best display her womanly attributes. She corralled her head of loose strawberry blonde curls, haphazardly pinning them into a messy updo. She gave herself the once over before realizing she had no shoes to wear.

Stepping quickly across the hall, Catlin knocked on Pam's door. "Pam? Can I ask a favor?" The door swung open. Pam was in a black leather number with thigh-high boots. "Do you have any heels I can borrow to wear with this dress?" Catlin almost begged. Unless Hell had frozen over and Pam had stopped collecting shoes, there was a 99.9% chance that Pam would have a perfect match for Catlin's dress. Rolling her eyes, Pam shut the door, only to open it a moment later with a pair of silver heels. Holding them out towards Catlin as if they smelled, Pam muttered, "Here. I never liked these much anyway," and shut the door in her face.

Laughing out loud, Catlin walked across the hall back to Eric's room. Propping up against the bed with her back to the door, Catlin struggled to get the almost too small heels on. She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a familiar voice say, "I always did love that color on you."


	2. Chapter 2

Turning around, Catlin saw Eric, his broad shoulders framed by the doorway. He had cut his hair since she had last seen him and his white shirt was torn. He took a step towards her and shut the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, not moving.

Catlin strode towards him, taking hold of his arms that were crossed sternly across his chest. "Can we speak freely in here?" she whispered, glancing around. Looking up to his face, she saw him look around before silently nodding.

Stepping back, Catlin sighed. "Eric. You idiot. Did you honestly think that you wouldn't get caught in this little scheme of yours? I am assuming that schizo of a queen put you up to this. If I could figure this out all the way in Asheville, what makes you think the magistrate won't?" Not pausing, she continued, "And you _know_ that Sophie-Anne will never take the fall for this. YOU will be the one made an example of." Catlin paused, watching his stoney face. "Eric?" she pleaded.

"How did you find out?" Eric asked, walking over to his bed, disdainfully picking up the clothes Catlin had strewn about. Jerking her clothes out of his hands, she folded them in her arms. "It wasn't hard. There was a rush of V coming up from the south. And it was always a blend. Not from just one vampire. And there was some very very old blood in the mix. Older than mine… or even yours." Catlin paused, doing the math in her head. After 800 years, she had quit counting.

"Well, I'm afraid you made this trip for no reason. You see, I have no V, there's no proof that I had any connection to this." Eric stated this so factually that she was tempted to believe him, but she knew better. Walking towards him, his arms opened and Catlin slipped into his embrace. "I just don't want anything to happen to you. That's all," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder. It had been exactly 106 years, 128 days, and 22 hours since she had been last in his arms. She did remember that.

Pulling away slightly, Catlin ran a finger over the rip in Eric's shirt. "So what happened to you last night?"

Eric walked over and leaned up against the foot of the bed, examining his blood-soaked ripped shirt. "Well," he started, "I took a bullet to the chest, killed a werewolf, and saved a human damsel in distress." Catlin laughed. "You did all that for a human? Must be pretty special." She raised an eyebrow with a slight grin on her face. "She is," Eric immediately replied. "She belongs to Bill Compton." Catlin could see that familiar look of longing in Eric's eyes and wondered how long this human would be Bill's.

"So how is Bill? I haven't seen him in ages," she asked politely. "Well, you may not see him while you are here. He's missing." Eric stated this so matter of factly that Catlin couldn't help but be suspicious. Her thoughts soon returned to the werewolf. "By the way," Catlin looked at him cautiously, "Any particular pack that werewolf was from?" She was afraid to ask, and even more afraid to hear the answer. "He was one of _them_," Eric whispered, taking Catlin's hand and pulling her down into sitting on the bed next to her.

Catlin sat there silently. She couldn't, even after all these years, block out the sounds of her mother's screams as her little sister and mother were brutally murdered. The sight of her brother's mangled body lying on the ground not far from her mother's filled her eyes. He had fought so hard to save them and the clan. Her thighs screamed, remembering the brutal raping that had gone on and on until she had prayed for death. A single tear ran down her cheek. Death came, but not to her.

She was startled out of her memories when a hand reached up to wipe her cheek. She had not realized she was crying. "I'm sorry," she started. A finger to her lips quieted her. "I'm sorry you had to find out that they were still around in this manner. I know how much you hate them. All our work was not in vain. You must believe this," Eric lifted her face to his. She looked into the eyes of the man who had saved her, been her brother, father, lover. She had to trust his words.

Eric stood and walked over to the closet, pulling his shirt off as he stood there, looking at the various mostly black shirts he owned. Pulling on a black wife-beater, he turned back to Catlin who had dried her eyes and fixed her makeup. "Come," he smiled. "Its not often the sheriff of Asheville comes all the way to pay me a visit. The least I can do is get you a drink."

Catlin dried her eyes, checked herself in the mirror, and followed the hallway Eric had taken out to the bar. Pausing at the door, she glanced around at the night's clientele. The crowd ranged in age from barely legal to a woman who looked to be in her late 80s. Catlin's eyes settled on Eric near the end of the bar. Two overweight women in their 50s, mixed drinks in hand, were unsuccessfully attempting to make eye contact with Eric from across the bar. Walking slowly past them, Catlin said bluntly, "He doesn't want you. Either of you. You're not his type." Not waiting to see the appalled looks on their faces, she strode over and took her seat next to him. "What was that about?" he asked. "Oh nothing," she smiled. "So how about that drink?"

Eric slid a glass over to her. "I thought you'd like a little more of what you had last night, so I arranged this," he said, gesturing to the glass. _He was rather delightful, _she thought. _In fact, he might have been the best human I've had in ages._ "Thank you." Catlin turned toward him and leaned forward a bit, a piece of her hair falling down across her shoulder. "Are you sure there was nothing in particular you noticed about those _dogs_?" she asked playfully. Eric sighed. "They had Mississippi accents, if that's what you're looking for." Catlin nodded, silently sipping her drink.

They sat in silence for a minute, until a busty Slavic looking human who was dressed like a stripper came up behind Eric and started to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders. "I suggest you move those if you want to keep them," Eric stated, still staring off into space. The girl, who Catlin assumed was Eric's latest toy, cursed at him and stormed off. Catlin downed the rest of her drink before she burst out laughing. Eric turned to her, disbelief on his face. "And how is this funny?" he posed. "Well," Catlin started, "I was just thinking how some people never change." She paused, before continuing, "You sure do know how to pick them."

Before he could reply, Catlin pulled Eric up off the bar stool. "Surely you're not just going to buy me a drink and send me on my way," she teased as she walked out towards the dance floor, letting her hips sway with the music. Keeping her back to him she counted to herself, waiting for him to join her. …_Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen…_ She felt him grab her arm, whispering in her ear, "Let's go somewhere a little more… private." He slipped an arm around her waist as they walked back towards his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Catlin rolled over in the soft silken sheets of Eric's bed and opened her eyes. Eric was still asleep, lying so perfectly, beautifully still on his side. She eased herself back down, resting her head on his outstretched arm. Up until this moment, Catlin had not realized how much she had truly missed her old lover. He stirred, wrapping his free arm around her, pulling her close.

Not opening his eyes, he spoke, "I meant to ask you this yesterday, but we were busy. Why did you not come when Godric was captured?" Suddenly Eric rolled on top of Catlin pinning her down. "He was your maker and you abandoned him when he needed us most," he snarled. "Why? Why would you do that?" Looking into Erics eyes, Catlin spoke the simple truth, knowing he would understand. "I was forbidden. He spoke to me of his plan and ordered me not to intervene in any way, and especially not to contact you." Her eyes began to water as she continued, "You have no idea how hard it was to sit around and do nothing. I didn't even get to tell him… goodbye."

Eric released her and sat on the edge of the bed. "I understand" was all he said. Catlin knew that no more would be spoken of Godric. Eric turned to her, "So what are your plans while you are here? Run across the state line and single handedly kill a whole pack of wolves hyped up on V?" He smiled. Thinking to herself that it wasn't such a bad idea, Catlin paused. "Nah, I won't take out the whole pack. Maybe a few though. I was thinking of paying Russell a visit, though." "You hate him for good reason, so why are you going to visit him like a friend?" he inquired. Catlin smiled mischievously. "The other day I heard a magnificent saying: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

Catlin picked up her clothes off the floor, stuffing them back into her bag. Eric had left her to pack her things while he attended to business at the bar. For no particular reason she felt in a hurry to get to Mississippi. Clothes were strewn everywhere. She got down on her knees, intending to look for mate of a blue sock when the door opened. She glanced up to see Adam standing in the doorframe, the music of the club drifting in. He was dressed in jeans, a blue plaid cowboy style shirt, and a black leather biker jacket. Catlin smiled, "Hi." She waited for him to speak. "Eric wants me to go with you. To Mississippi. To keep an eye on you," he almost smiled. "Seriously?" Catlin exclaimed. "Does he not trust me to behave myself after all this time?" She paused when she saw a glimpse of hurt come over his face, "I'm not saying I don't _want_ you to come." She stood up and walked towards to him, locking eyes with him. "Only if _you_ want to, though. I don't like the idea of you being forced into this." Adam reached up and brushed a lock of hair off Caitlin's face. He blushed, removing his hand. "Actually I kinda volunteered," he admitted. Catlin smiled, "Then that's settled."

Catlin grabbed her bags, threw them over her shoulder and followed Adam out into the club. Eric cut her off. "Promise me." Catlin wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in her brother's chest. "I will," she whispered.

Catlin leaned her head back, watching the headlights bouncing off the trees on the winding road. She saw in the distance a sign, hanging crooked on its post, announcing their entrance to Mississippi. The windows in the car rattled as the wheels hit the change from smooth asphalt to old rough concrete. The whole state seemed in slight disrepair.

Catlin turned to Adam who was sitting quietly next to her. "We should be there soon, so I might as well warn you about what you signed yourself up for," she started. "Russell is old, older than most vampires, and ruthless. His lover, Talbot will likely take a fancy to you. I'll claim you as my own, so you'll need to act the part. That should keep Talbot off you… for a while." Catlin frowned. "Oh, and Russell keeps a pack of werewolves around as his guards. The whole place reeks of wet dog." Adam laughed. "Doesn't sound too awful as long as I _belong_ to you and as for acting the part, that won't be hard," he reached his hand over and placed it reassuringly on Catlin's thigh. His touch was warm and soft. Up until the other night, Catlin hadn't been with a human lover in over 60 years.

Unable to stand the silence, Catlin flipped on the radio, finally leaving the radio on an hour program dedicated to Zeppelin. She drifted away in the guitar riffs for another 30 minutes until Catlin pulled into the drive of Russell's mansion. She stopped just short of the gate, put the car in park, and sat still, staring off into the darkness. Sighing, she looked over at Adam. He was staring at her, like he was trying to understand what was going through her mind at that moment. She reached over, pulled him towards him, kissing him gently. "I hope nothing happens to you." Before he could reply, she slammed the car into drive and pulled up to the gates.


	4. Chapter 4

Catlin opened the door and stepped out of the car into the crisp Mississippi night air. Her nose wrinkled up as the breeze caught the stench of those dogs that had directed her to a parking place. Adam walked around the car, opening up the trunk and removing both their bags. "Leave them there. They can get them for us," Catlin instructed. She took his arm and walked up to the large wooden door.

The door swung open freely, and as Catlin expected, Talbot was standing there waiting to greet them. "My dear," he said grandly, "It's been far too long since you last came to see me." He kissed her lightly on each cheek. "And who is this?" Talbot walked slowly around Adam, as if admiring him from every angle. "He's mine." Catlin looked sternly at Talbot. "And I don't like to share." "Of course not," Talbot replied, stepping back slightly, the smile never leaving his face. "Let me show you two to your room," he gestured up the staircase. "Russell is _occupied_ at the moment or otherwise he would have been here to greet you himself."

They followed him, Catlin trying to zone out the monotonous speech he was giving as they passed many artifacts prominently displayed on the walls around them. It seemed like forever, but they finally reached their room, decorated in heavy black gothic furniture. The sheets on the bed were a fine glossy purple satin. It reminded Catlin of a brothel. At least she knew with Talbot in charge, no expenses were spared when it came to comfort.

Catlin sat down on the bed as Talbot droned on about the trip to France where they acquired the furniture and about the small countryside village they decimated out of boredom. "Oh," Catlin interrupted Talbot mid sentence. "We left our bags out by my car. Can you have your dogs fetch those for us?" She smiled as sincerely as she could. "I could do with a freshening up. The drive was ever so long…" she trailed off.

"Of course," Talbot replied, still slightly annoyed at Catlin's lack of interest in the furnishings. He bowed, backing out through the open door. Catlin glanced at Adam who mouthed a silent _Thank you_ to her. She flopped back on the bed only to sit up suddenly at the sight of a woman walking past their door. The woman paused, glancing in the room. Lorena. _Damn._ Catlin thought to herself. She decided she'd speak first. "Lorena. My , its been a long time. You look fabulous. How have you been?" Indeed, Lorena did have a certain glow about her. Almost a sort of unnatural happiness. "Simply marvelous, and thank you," she replied. "I'd stay and chat but lunch is almost served." Lorena turned and walked out. When Catlin was sure Lorena had left, she whispered to Adam, "Stay away from her."

A loud noise sounded at the base of the stairs and cursing could be heard floating down the hallway along with the stench of wet dog. A mangy looking man and his trailer park girlfriend appeared at the door with Catlin and Adam's luggage. "You can set it all over there," Catlin pointed to the far corner of the room. After the luggage crudely dumped, the woman stood there, staring at Catlin. "Well," she demanded. "Don't we get a tip?" She rudely stuck her hand out. Catlin smiled slowly. "Oh of course. How silly of me." She turned to ruffle through her bag, pulling out a small vial of blood. "I don't have any cash on me. Will this do?" Catlin held up the vial, watching the woman's eyes hunger for it. "Uh, yes ma'am," the man spoke. "Most kind of you." Catlin smiled and handed the man the vial. "This is very old blood." _Very old poisoned blood._ "Use it sparingly and share with your friends." The woman tried to clutch the vial out of the man's closed fist. "Oh we will."

Catlin smiled, thinking to herself how she would keep her promise to Eric and still eliminate a few dogs.

Not answering Adam's questioning stare, Catlin pulled out a strapless black dress, stepped behind the French screen, and changed clothes. As she stepped out, Adam reached for her arm. She interrupted him before he could speak, "The less you know, the safer you are. I'll tell you after we've left." She turned to the mirror to fix her hair. A few seconds later, Talbot knocked on the door. "Lunch is served." Turning to Adam, Catlin smiled at him, his face was sullen. She reached to pull him towards her but met some mild resistance that was overcome easily. '"You have to trust me. I'm sorry I can't tell you everything. You'd understand then. But its not safe for you to know." Catlin sighed looking at the floor. A hand reached up lifting her chin till her lips met his briefly. "I do trust you. Now let's go have some dinner. I personally am starving."

Talbot was at the foot of the stairs waiting for them. Offering Catlin his arm, he showed them to the grand dining room. As they walked, Catlin posed, "Now what's the menu for today?" Talbot winked at her. "Twelve year old twin boys." Catlin couldn't help but laugh. "You shall see soon enough," Talbot stated, smugly pleased with himself. He continued, "I hope filet suits you, Adam. We get all our beef for our human guests from a local ranch. Hormone free, grass fed. Russell feels that it's important to support the local economy, you see."

Two males dressed in black, apparently guards, opened the doors to the dining room as they approached. Russell stood at the head of the table to greet them. Taking Catlin's hand, Russell brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. "I think you get prettier every time I see you," he mused. "It's good to see you as well, Russell," she feigned flattery. He gestured to her to take the seat to his right. "This is my human, Adam, " she introduced him to the king. "Pleasure," he drawled. "Lorena, dear, scoot down a seat so this gentleman can sit next to Catlin." Lorena stood, placing her napkin on the table. She smiled, "I'll just sit next to Bill so he's not all alone." She was staring at the vampire across the table. His icy stare didn't meet hers. Russell smiled, "As you wish."

"Catlin," Russell asked, "Have you had the pleasure to meet Bill Compton?" Bill nodded to her, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." His accent betrayed that he was from Louisiana. "And yours," she replied politely. "And what part of Louisiana are you from," she smiled slyly. A look of surprised intrigue crossed his face. "Bon Temps. I recently moved back to my family homestead, but I shall be moving to Mississippi soon," he glanced at a smiling Russell. "And you aren't from here either," Bill stated. "No," Catlin took her napkin off the table and spread it across her lap. "Originally, I'm from Scotland, but recently I have been living in Asheville." Russell interrupted, "Catlin is the sheriff of the Asheville area, and if my memory serves, she declined the position as queen of North Carolina. Twice. I always wanted to ask you why you declined such an honor." Catlin sighed, "Well, I was royalty in a sense in my human life. I had my fill. I didn't need or desire that power again."

"Royalty," Russell hung on the word. "I don't believe I knew that about you. Please elaborate. I love good stories." "If I must," Catlin forced a smile before starting, "There were lots of wars between the clans in Scotland at that time. We were without a true king, being ruled by a foreign king. My father believed that we should not be subject to a king we never saw. He began uniting the clans around us. We lived in peace, made our own rules, and became a powerful force." Catlin paused, drinking some wine before continuing, "My father ruled over his lands with peace and fairness. Our bloodline gave my father a right to the throne of Scotland. He likely would have been king if an army had not come and destroyed our villages, killing my whole family. I was taken hostage and managed to escape. This was 70 years before Robert the Bruce was born. It was not so organized or glamorous as they made it seem in _Braveheart_."

Everyone at the table was looking at Catlin. Talbot broke the silence with a hungry sigh. "If ever I met Mel Gibson, I would turn him in an instant." Russell broke out laughing at his lover's comment. "Shall we eat now?"


End file.
